Chuck levels the royal prince of Monaco with an unfriendly gaze, supportively tightening his hold around Blair's waist as she stiffens in front of him. He knows that Blair and Louis have a past, and that history requires him to play nice - as long as Louis is civil. But Blair is his main concern, and right now she is not looking too pleased to see her ex fiancé either.
"What could you possibly have to talk to me about?" Blair inquires, her tone cautious. "We have nothing further to say to one another."
The statement is an attempt to dismiss him, but the strength of her tone is weakened by her astonishment that he has shown up unannounced in the early hours of her engagement party. It has been weeks since she has seen or heard from Louis. They'd both decided after the accident that it would be best not to publicly announce their broken engagement, but instead to allow the public to draw their own conclusions, and Louis had paid for news of her accident (and Chuck's involvement) to go largely underreported. There has been no press about him or their relationship here in the U.S., although Blair is sure that the media in Monaco has not been so indifferent. Nonetheless, she'd thought their relationship was safely behind her.
Yet here is Louis, standing in front of her again, his granite irises fixated intently upon her.
Chuck hears the indecision waver in her voice, knowing that she is wondering the same thing as he. What is Louis doing here?
"It is important that I speak with you," Louis insists, his tone polite but unrelenting. "Alone, if you don't mind," he adds, with a look at Chuck behind her. The hairs on Blair's arms stand on end, but she briskly nods in acquiescence, her instincts swiftly taking over the rest of her body. She can either hear it directly from Louis, or find out in the press unannounced, she reminds herself.
It is best to handle these things head on.
Turning to gaze into Chuck's supportive eyes, she murmurs, "I'll be right back," cupping his face in her hands for a sweet kiss. And then she is gone, leading Louis into a spare room off of the main hall.
Chuck stands unmoved on the stairs for a moment before coming to stand just outside of the door they've just disappeared through. His protective instincts urge him not to leave Blair alone with Louis, but if decorum demands his absence, he won't be far.
When she reaches the center of the room, Blair takes a deep breath and turns on her heel to face Louis. "What is it?" she queries politely, her expression carefully blank to avoid giving away how much his presence unsettles her.
Louis' back is to her. He closes the door to the room, but he does not immediately turn to face her after the soft 'click' of the latch. When he does, his expression is unreadable. He does not answer her question, but instead stands silently watching her.
"How are you?" he finally asks, catching her off guard.
Blair's forehead creases slightly in confusion. This is unexpected. "I'm fine," she answers after a moment's hesitation. The room falls silent once again as Louis studies her face. "And you?" she adds, hoping to break his quiet study of her.
"I have been well," Louis replies, "although I am saddened still that things have turned out this way."
Blair tries not to react to his words, although her heart gives a small pang at the hurt she has caused him. Despite her empathy, she remains silent. She already sat through this guilt-inducing conversation once. She won't encourage another rendition of it.
After a moment, Louis continues. "I wanted to speak with you because I have a proposition for you."
His words surprise her, but Blair merely asks, "Which is?"
Louis eyes her for a moment before divulging, "I would like to raise your baby as my son, and the future heir to the throne of Monaco."
Blair blanches, feeling her throat go dry at Louis' words. "What?" she manages to croak, stunned speechless at his request. Her blood runs like ice in her veins.
Louis is unperturbed by her reaction, coming to stand calmly before her. He looks down at her, his eyes soft now, reminding her of the man she long ago promised to spend her life with. Swallowing, Blair attempts to regain her faculties as she stares back at him. You are a Waldorf woman, she chastises herself. You possess the strength and coercive abilities of your bloodline. Act like it!
Louis reaches to clasp her cold, clammy fingers in his as she is internally stabilizing herself, his gaze never breaking from hers. His hold is not comforting in the slightest, and Blair is struck by how ineffective the gesture is for her now that she has reunited with Chuck. Nothing compares to the level of comfort that her fiance's presence brings to her; Louis' old gesture of encouragement supplies no reassurance for her at all. Blair begins to feel warm in the small room, wishing that Chuck were there with her. She glances hopelessly towards the door as Louis continues pleading with her.
"I need an heir, Blair," Louis is saying, whispering silkily to her in the European accent that used to make her swoon. Now it has no such affect; she stares at him, unblinking, her mind numb as he continues.
"Our relationship has not worked out, but no one must know that the baby is not mine. You would be happy to be the mother to the heir of Monaco, no? You would have a place of honor in the Royal Palace of course, and anything you could ever want would be yours."
Blair blinks, opening her mouth and then closing it again, unsure of what to say. But still he goes on, murmuring yet more promises. She struggles to process what he is saying, willing her frozen mind to begin processing thoughts once more. She needs to regain control of this conversation.
"Imagine the upbringing your child would have as the royal son of the Crown Prince of Monaco," Louis continues. His eyes are alight with the thrill of his vision. " He would have all of the best instructors, and all that the world has to offer would be at his fingertips."
This finally gets Blair's attention, and she grasps onto the sentence as if clinging to a lifeboat, pulling herself from her speechless state. This she can respond to.
"He?" she asks. She intends for the word to sound defiant, but her voice is weak even to her own ears. "How do you even know that it's a boy?"
Louis frowns at her, impatient at this detail as if disappointed that she is not on his level of thinking. "I don't," he replies. "But it's a simple test, Blair. There's no need for romanticism now, is there?" he adds with a smile that does not reach his eyes. Shaking his head to clear the look of irritation, he once again looks imploringly to her, his eyes wide enough that she can see the whites around his irises.
"Besides, I know in my heart that it is a boy. We have been saying so all along, no?" he smiles cheerfully, his boyish charm shining through.
Blair sucks in a determined breath, pushing Louis' hands away from hers. He lets them drop limply to his sides, his gaze still fixed intently on her as she opens her mouth to reply.
"Louis, the baby isn't yours. I am not yours."
She points out what she feels is the obvious elephant in the room, her words calm despite the racing thump of her heartbeat in her chest. Has he lost his mind? He must be mad to think she would even consider what he is asking.
"I couldn't live that way," she continues, "with my time split between here and there. Besides, this is Chuck's baby," she reasons. "I can't just take that away from him."
Louis jams his hands into the pockets of his slacks in a frustrated gesture. "Even Chuck Bass should know that I can provide a better upbringing for his child than he can," he quips, his voice fierce, all geniality gone in an instant.
Blair gasps. The words sting, and she stares hard at him without reply for a long moment, affronted at his lack of modesty. Eventually, she moves to cross her arms across her chest.
"I'm not sure what the hell your problem is, but I think it's time that you leave," she growls in response. Her tone is icy, her eyes narrowed in indignation as he raises his hands in a gesture of innocence. When he speaks again, her tone has triggered his most soothing voice.
"I'm only asking you to consider what would be best for your child, Blair," he implores desperately, closing the distance between them to grip her arms, shaking her with such force that she drops her arms in surprise. "I wasted a year and a half of my life, wrapped up in scandal after scandal with you. Why won't you do this for me?" He punctuates each word with a fierce shake, and Blair bristles in his hold, infuriated at his informality.
"Get your hands off of me!" she cries, and to punctuate her statement the door flies open with a crack against the adjoining wall. Startled, they both turn to see a glowering Chuck encompassed in the doorframe.
"Get off of her!" he snarls at the sight of Blair caught in Louis' grasp.
Louis doesn't even have the chance to free her before Chuck has pounced on him. Blair is freed in a moment, and Louis is whipped away and pinned against the wallpaper of the small room. Chuck eyes her with concern over his shoulder, his attention fixed on her despite the prince in his hands. "Are you alright?" He asks anxiously.
Blair gives a shaky nod, "I'm fine," she soothes him, wanting to get Louis out of the room and out of her life before any more damage can be done. "Let him go," she insists. "We're finished here."
She crosses to the open door as Chuck releases the front of Louis' jacket, her ex-fiancé readjusting his shirt front with a sour grimace.
"Vanya!" she calls. Within a moment, the blonde doorman has appeared before her.
"Yes, Miss Blair?" he inquires, observing the two gentlemen as they glare in distrust at one another.
"Could you see Louis out, please?" she requests, gesturing to the prince.
"Right this way, sir," Vanya urges Louis.
He grudgingly comes to stand before Blair in the doorway, mercifully silent as he whisks out into the living room. As he follows Vanya out, he glares at Chuck balefully.
After they exit, Chuck crosses to Blair at once, scooping her into his arms to cocoon her gently against his chest. She is quivering despite her brave face. "Are you okay?" he demands again of her, pulling her back to examine her only to crush her to him again after his scan is complete. "Oh God, I was so worried. I've never been so scared."
Blair breathes deeply of the scent of her fiancé, her nose buried deep in the folds of his dress shirt. "I'm okay now," she replies, her voice dually muffled by both his shirt and the lump building in her throat. "I think he just got carried away."
"Carried away!" Chuck barks, his eyes widening at her minimization. "He could have hurt you, Blair," he insists, squeezing her tighter. "He could have really hurt you, and then I would have had to kill him."
Blair can't help but to laugh despite the severity of the statement.
"Chuck Bass, my hero," she croons softly into his tuxedo front with a sniffle.
And then they are kissing, their lips melding together to form the sentiments their mouths can't verbalize. They hold tightly to one another, the panic of the experience assigning an edge of urgency to their emotional display. When they break apart, Chuck reaches up to cradle her face gently in his hands, his eyes raking over her glistening brown eyes and rosy cheeks.
"You are the most important thing to me now. The most important thing to me ever," he admits in a soft voice that brings tears to Blair's eyes. "I don't ever want anything to happen to you. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you."
Through her tears, Blair whispers, "I know."
"Good," is Chuck's reply, and then, "What did he want?"
Blair gulps, preparing herself for the storm that will come after this revelation.
"He wanted me to let him tell the public that the baby was his. To let him raise the baby as his heir." Blair stares up at him anxiously after her admission, but Chuck is surprisingly silent, absorbing her words.
"That bastard," he finally hisses on an oath. "He will never come within a 100-yard radius of you again if my life depends on it."
Blair closes her eyes and releases the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "That sounds wonderful," she murmurs, placing a small kiss on his chin. "Thank you for being my real prince charming."
Chuck scoops her up for another tight hug. "Thank you for being my Queen B."
Blair smiles fondly at the old nickname.
After a moment in his warm embrace, Blair feels worlds better. Her fiancé has that affect on her most of the time. "You know," she remarks after a moment, leaning back to peer up at him owlishly. "I think that name was a turn-on for you in high school, Mr. Bass."
Chuck leans back to grin shamelessly at her. "Of course. It was sexy as hell. My woman, the queen."
He hasn't even finished the sentence before Blair cascades into giggles. "Who knew I wasn't the only one with dreams of becoming royalty?" she observes.
Chuck smirks at her, releasing her to adjust his shirt and jacket. Checking his phone, he sees that the time is now 7:50. Ten minutes until their guests are due to arrive.
"Shall we resume overseeing preparations for the party, my dear?" he inquires, offering her his hand.
Resting her fingers in his palm, Blair smiles at him.
"We shall," she agrees.
They exit the small room, closing the door behind them with a small click as they start down the hall towards the kitchen. Just before they have left behind the quiet solitude of the hall, Blair squeezes Chuck's hand in hers. He looks down at her inquisitively.
"I am so happy to have you by my side, now and forever," she says.
It is a quiet murmur, but Chuck feels like every word has been spoken directly to his heart. He squeezes her hand in return, unable to contain his grin.
"Me too," he replies. "I can't wait to tell the world that you're mine."
Blair feels a smile overtake her own face. "Good," she replies.
And taking a deep breath, they resume their walk to the kitchen.
Despite Louis' unexpected visit, the rest of the evening plays out perfectly. The friends and family of the couple arrive in a timely manner, and Chuck and Blair split up dutifully to greet their guests, catching up with those with whom they have been out of touch during the busy fall and winter seasons. Only a short while later, the caterer comes to stand innocuously near Blair's line of sight until, excusing herself from Eleanor and Cyrus' inquiries about where she and Chuck will be living, Blair makes her way to the young man's side.
"Dinner is ready to be served, mademoiselle," the caterer murmurs, gesturing to the kitchen. "Please gather your guests at the table. The first course will be served in five to ten minutes."
Blair nods, dismissing the caterer back to the kitchen. Scanning the living room, she spots Chuck standing near the window with Nate and makes her way across the room to join him.
"I apologize for the interruption, gentlemen," Blair murmurs sweetly, wrapping her hand around Chuck's elbow and offering a smile of greeting to Nate. "It's good to see you, Nathaniel," she adds.
Looking to Chuck, Blair reports, "Dinner will be served momentarily, darling. We need to gather the guests to the dinner table."
"That's alright," Nate replies, returning Blair's smile with his own. "I should go find a good seat before I end up next to Penelope or something," he says, gesturing to the brunette where she stands in conversation with Kati on the other side of the room. "The cons of not having a girlfriend at the moment," he laments lightheartedly with a remorseful grin. His navy Calvin Klein suit brings out the color of his eyes, and they sparkle merrily as he shrugs in defeat, contradicting the seriousness in his tone. "Ever since the date she won in the auction, she's been trying to pin me down for a second one."
"I've already assigned seats, Nathaniel," Blair informs him with a chastising tone. "Honestly, did you think I wouldn't have already thought of that? You're sitting next to Serena and your mother."
With a nod of acknowledgement, Nathaniel disappears to find his place at the table as Blair leans up on her tiptoes to whisper in Chuck's ear. "How's it going?" she asks, as Chuck's arms come up to wrap firmly around her. Her answering grin presses her warm cheek against his own.
"Well, how about you?" he replies, his chest rumbling under her hand where it rests against the buttons of his shirt.
"The same," she responds before dropping down to her normal height and turning to face the room at large. "If I could have your attention," she announces from her place next to Chuck, waiting for the room to quiet before continuing.
Rather than being disappointed at the short length of their embrace, Chuck admires his fiancée as she addresses the room. She has always been one to switch quickly to and from business mode as the setting requires, and Chuck has always found it to be incredibly sexy.
"Dinner will be served shortly," Blair continues. "If you could all find your places at the dinner table."
When everyone has begun making their way dutifully toward the ornately dressed table that stretches the length of the far end of the living room, Blair turns to face Chuck again, squeezing his hand in hers.
"Are you ready?" he asks, looking down into his fiancée's eyes. When Blair nods, he gently nudges her toward the dinner table. When they assume their place at the head of the table, Chuck gestures for everyone to take their seat while Blair observes the table, scanning the faces of their guests. Soon just the two of them remain standing. Their fingers are still intertwined beneath the edge of the table, which only their closest neighbors – Eleanor and Lily respectively – can see.
The faces that make up their dinner table are the people that make up their closest friends and confidantes, the people who have shaped them into the adults that have grown to love one another so deeply. There is Lily, the only mother Chuck has ever known, sitting next to Rufus, her own love; and Serena and Nate, seated next to her, their two best friends – the ones who know how to handle the two of them in love and at war. Dan and Cece sit comfortable side by side despite their own rocky past, looking together towards the head of the table to meet the couple's gazes. Across from them are Harold and Roman; Dorota - who has helped Chuck and Blair to come together on countless occasions, and who has saved Chuck from the wraith of Eleanor Waldorf finding him in Blair's bed on several other countless occasions – with Vanya beside her bouncing Anastasia on his knee; and Eleanor herself, with Cyrus at her side. Farther down the table are the faces of Penelope, Kati, Is, Hazel, and Nelly Yuki – all of whom have played some crucial part in their school days past (and will be essential to helping Blair to plan their wedding); William Van der Bilt, once Blair's future grandfather-in-law; Jack Bass (because Blair had insisted that she'd rather know of his whereabouts than not know); and Anne Archibald, whom Blair once looked to as a mother figure in her own past. Despite the end of Blair and Nate's relationship in early high school, Blair still feels a kinship with a few of Nate's family, and despite she and Anne's differences, she wouldn't feel right if they weren't present.
They are also in the presence of Vera Wang, whom Blair had already commissioned to begin her wedding gown for her upcoming nuptials to Louis. She has been more than graciously understanding about Blair's change of heart, and has even offered to alter the dress before Blair and Chuck's wedding. She is seated next to Eleanor and Epperly Lawrence, Blair's editor from W, who has grown to be a good friend, and whom Blair knows is thrilled to be in the presence of the designer.
The rest of the Upper East Side can speculate about whether Chuck and Blair are engaged or whether Blair and Louis are still an item, but these people here will hear the truth directly from the source because they are the ones that matter.
"Thank you all for coming tonight," Chuck begins his speech, which they have meticulously prepared.
"We are both very happy that you could join us for dinner tonight on the eve of the holidays. I know that many of you will be leaving the city soon to reunite with your families for the occasion, and I'd like to thank you all for giving us your time this evening."
Chuck pauses to smile largely at the table. He can hardly contain his excitement.
"But before our meal, I'm sure you're all wondering about the announcement we have for you this evening," Chuck presumes. He looks down into Blair's fawn-colored eyes for a moment, grinning freely now. 'This is it', he thinks. With a deep breath, he takes the plunge.
"It is my pleasure to announce that Blair Waldorf has agreed to become my wife. We are to be married next fall."
Chuck can hardly finish the sentence before cheers and confusion erupt at the table. Although some seem puzzled by the announcement, the atmosphere is largely positive, and boisterous shouts of congratulations drown out his words. Beside him, Blair is grinning widely, her hand caressing her chin just so in order to show off the Harry Winston engagement ring glinting elegantly on her ring finger.
After a few moments, the table quiets enough for Chuck to continue.
"We appreciate your support during this important step in our lives," he asserts. His words are intended to suppress those who might question the terms of their engagement, given that Blair was only recently engaged to Louis. "We are both very happy, and looking forward to uniting our families. And looking forward to our growing family," he adds with a soft look and affectionate hand placed on Blair's swollen belly. Blair swears that she feels her heart stop at his touch.
At that moment, the kitchen door opens to reveal a line of caterers holding dinner plates.
"And on that note, dinner is served!" Chuck announces, his expression elated as he assumes his seat next to Blair amidst hearty well wishes from the table, the loudest of which stream from Rufus and Cyrus.
The atmosphere in the room could not be more jovial, but no one is happier than Chuck and Blair as they smile at one another, absolute, carefree love reigning both of their expressions. It is done. They have made their announcement, and they are free to simply be a couple in love – with no concealment or embarrassment. Thriving on the well wishes of those around them, they start their dinner with their hearts a considerable load lighter.
After dinner, as various friends and family members crowd the newly-engaged couple to offer their sentiments and discuss wedding plans, Dan slips away unnoticed to the restroom in search of solitude.
He is more than happy for the couple – thrilled, in fact, that Chuck seems to have taken his advice the night of his visit and embraced his future with Blair wholeheartedly. But he is on edge, as he has been this entire week – the entire month, really, since learning of the plans to publish his Afterword. The problem is not the Afterword, really, but the fact that he can't seem to find the words to write it. He is long used to deadlines from his former days as a student and his chosen career as a writer, but never before has he experienced such a profound form of writer's block, especially in reference to something so personal to him.
And if he has to listen to one more person exclaim about the size and elegance of Blair's engagement ring – even Dan has to admit it is impressive, but altogether too showy for his taste and engagement parties, especially UES style ones, are not really his thing – he won't be able to stifle an eye roll, and if Blair sees him do this it will probably be the last thing he ever does. Pregnancy hormones terrify him, especially after his experience with Georgina.
Right now, his thoughts are full of Vanessa, and his mind keeps replaying the look she gave him when she saw him with Serena this afternoon - a look that can only be described as complete disappointment.
It hurts, Dan acknowledges, to have his former best friend express such blatant disapproval of him. Since their run-in today, ever since he'd found out that she was back in the city really, he'd been thinking of little else but her despite his best attempts to clear her from his thoughts. What is she doing back in New York? And when had she and Jenny resumed their friendship?
The last time Jenny had been in town, Vanessa had intentionally blamed her for a plan that the two of them, along with Juliet, had all acted out together. It had come as a surprise to Dan that she and Jenny were found together at the loft last week, but more surprising still is the fact that Vanessa still has not left the city. How long will she be here?
With a sigh, Dan thinks back to their confrontation earlier that afternoon. He can remember the days when each argument with Vanessa left him so unsettled that within twenty minutes he'd given in to the urge to apologize and talk it out. She is his former best friend, the person who knew him the best for the longest. The instinct is still ingrained in him to reach out to her after incidents like these, to put it behind them and move forward from it. But there are now so many incidents between them that it feels impossible to contemplate the idea of hashing them all out satisfactorily.
Irritated that he can't shrug off his unsettled feelings, Dan takes in his reflection in the elegant bone-inlay mirror framing the sinks in the spacious powder room. He observes his naturally curly hair, which frames his face wildly, his neat white dress shirt and slacks, both immaculately pressed. After nearly four years of life on the Upper East Side, he now knows better than to commit a basic fashion faux pas such as wearing a wrinkled shirt or pants. But he has also learned the subtle ways in which he can maintain his identity, such as his trademark unruly hair and his unshaven face. These are things that, though frowned upon, will not see him labelled as careless, but rather as defiant and uncultivated – both of which are labels that Dan has learned he can live with.
What he can't live with is Vanessa's grim judgement of his adaptation to life on the Upper East Side – her all-or-nothing attitude about his struggle to be himself in his surroundings. This, he has to admit, is one of the main reasons that he has not sought her out to reconcile their past issues. It has been a lot easier in recent months to live with his family on the Upper East Side without her judgment and expectations of him to consider.
With a sigh, Dan leans against the wall to drop his head defeatedly into his hands. It was easy not to think about Vanessa while she was nowhere to be found, unable to be reached (despite possibly by cell, but Dan had been studiously scrolling past her number in his phone for months). Now that she is in the city again, his conscience continues to provoke him, urging him to act and drowning him in guilt-coated memories of their former days as friends. Dan is pretty sure that his mind has grasped onto his issues with Vanessa as an excuse to stop obsessing over his Afterword, which he has miraculously extended the publishing date for, but which he is no closer to finishing.
A knock on the door interrupts his thoughts.
"Hey, are you almost through in there? I wouldn't rush you, but I don't know where the other powder rooms are," a feminine voice calls from the hall.
Lifting his head, his thoughts momentarily quieted, Dan stands to check his reflection one final time before opening the door. Outside, dressed immaculately in a crimson satin cocktail dress, is none other than Vera Wang.
Dan stands in stunned silence taking in her appearance for a moment. He had caught a glimpse of her earlier down the table from him, recognizing her wiry, exotic form from images he has seen in the media. He'd hardly expected, however, to come face to face with her at any point of the party.
Realizing that he is staring, Dan hastily steps aside to allow her entrance into the powder room. With a smile honed to charm millions in a single glimpse of white teeth, she slips past him into the powder room and closes the door.
Shaking his head slowly, Dan proceeds out of the hall towards the living room where the rest of the party guests are socializing. This is the value of life on the Upper East Side he thinks as he scans the room in search of a friendly face. It is not the money and the glamour that attract him, but the ability to brush shoulders with those who would otherwise be unreachable. Before his introduction into the UES, the opportunity to attend an event with a guest list that included Vera Wang would not even have seemed fathomable to him. Every day here presents some new opportunity to share common space with those whom are notable in his profession and otherwise, and Dan feels the privilege acutely. No sense of entitlement blinds him to the advantages linked to his newfound place in society. If anything, he feels substantially more aware than those around him, quite possibly because he knows that there is a very real possibility that he could be thrust from within the parameters of his upper crust lifestyle at any time.
He understands his privilege, acknowledges even that he isn't more deserving of it than anyone else who might have been here in his place. But still he cannot appease Vanessa; she is convinced that the UES is infectious – a place to be avoided rather than used to one's advantage. No amount of explaining has ever cleared her of that notion, and perhaps his own bumbling steps into the Upper East Side – indeed, even her own infantile steps into it – have left her with an ill-impression of the society and its people.
Still, Dan cannot contemplate the idea of ridding his life of the UES and its people altogether. There is Lily, for one. She is born and raised in high society, and is also the love of Rufus' life. As a member of the family, he is expected to be present in their lives. And even if distancing himself were something he'd consider, Dan is wary of giving up the privileges that his career as an author has earned him.
No, like it or not, the UES is an intimate part of his life now. It is essential that Vanessa accept that. Especially, he thinks churlishly, because she had her hand in thrusting him into it.
Spotting Nate looking trapped in the corner with a very sultry and determined looking Penelope, Dan pushes his thoughts to the back of his mind and makes haste to join them. When he is mere feet away, Nate catches his gaze and widens his eyes in a plea for help. Dan nods once, discreetly, at him before he crosses into Penelope's line of vision.
"Hey," Dan greets Nate warmly, throwing a hand on his shoulder before turning to face Penelope. "Hi Penelope," he greets her, taking in her appearance.
She has certainly dressed for the occasion this evening – she is wearing a skintight satin gown in a rich shade of emerald, and her hair flows sleek and straight down her back. She appears put out at his arrival; a small pout graces her delicate features. Not reputable for her kindness, Penelope ignores him, instead refocusing her pouty gaze on Nate.
"Well, what do you say?" she asks silkily, referencing their previous conversation with no regard to Dan's confusion.
"Uh, actually I can't," Nate racks his brain for an excuse while Dan looks on. "Dan and I have plans actually," he blurts, sounding believable enough despite his dislike of dishonesty.
Going for smooth, Dan looks at Penelope. "We do," he seconds, hoping that this is helpful.
Penelope frowns, looking between the two of them. With a sigh, she suggests, "Well maybe another time then."
When Nate doesn't move to accept or decline, she takes it as a possibility and bids them a good night before stalking off to join another member of Blair's old posse.
Letting out a massive breath, Nate turns to Dan once she is out of earshot. "Thanks man," he enthuses. "I don't know how I let her catch me alone, I was doing so well before Serena had to show someone upstairs to the second bathroom."
Dan shakes his head. "No problem man. How have you been?"
"Good, just busy with running the Spectator," Nate replies. "How is your book coming?" he asks with a grin. "Serena told me you were working on a sequel?"
"Eh it's…coming," Dan hedges. Before he can be asked to elaborate, Serena reappears in a whisk of gold beading. Her long, lithe silhouette is wrapped in an elegantly bejeweled Zuhair Murad gown in the richest shade of gold. The color warms her hair and freshens her skin, leaving her with a glow that causes Dan's stare to linger as she crosses in front of him. She has always known how to take a man's breath away.
She greets Dan warmly as she comes to stand next to Nate. "I'm sorry I took so long."
"That's alright," Nate replies. "Penelope made an advance, but Dan rescued me," he explains with a gesture of gratitude towards Dan.
Laughing, Serena turns to Dan. "Well, thank you for saving him in my absence then."
"It was no problem," Dan assures her. A trill of laughter interrupts their conversation, and the three of them turn to see Blair with her head thrown back elegantly as she giggles at something Vera Wang is explaining. Chuck is at her side, his arm around her shoulders, and she leans comfortably into his embrace.
"They really do look happy together," Nate remarks upon observing the couple's warm embrace.
"Everyone knows that they belonged together. They just had to find their way, that's all," Serena quips with her eyes on Dan. He is watching the couple with an indifferent gaze, but the knowledge of what he'd been in the act of confessing when he'd brought Blair and Chuck together leads Serena to believe he might be feeling more than just indifference.
"Well, I should probably get out of here," Dan says finally, turning back to Serena and Nate. "It's looking like the only people I really know at this party are you," he gestures to Nate, "and you," he finishes with a gesture to Serena. "I don't really like my odds."
With a laugh, Serena is quick to correct him. "Oh come on, you know Rufus and Lily. And my grandmother, too."
With a shrug, Dan admits, "You know parties like these really aren't my thing."
Serena is thoughtful for a moment before she offers, "Want to get a drink?"
Contemplating the appeal of a night at the loft alone with his thoughts, Dan doesn't take long to reply. "Sure."
"Well if you guys are leaving, I'm probably headed home too," Nate chimes in. "I have a few stories to read through before they head to print tomorrow. Life at the head of a newspaper," he laments cheerfully, looking anything but put out.
"I'm sure you're devastated," Dan notes.
With a shrug, Nate replies, "It could be worse."
"Are you ready to go?" Dan asks Serena, his eyes scanning her cocktail gown.
She nods at him, adding, "How else am I going to get to wear this dress? It'll be another year before it comes out of my closet again."
They say their farewells to Nate as they make their way to the door to get their coats. After their exit, Nate seeks out his mother to inform her of his departure, wishing her a good night before making his own way out of the party.
He loses himself in the elevator amidst thoughts of the stories he will feature on the front page of the next day's newspaper, and it takes him a moment to realize that the doors have opened to reveal the elegant bones of the lobby. Crossing to the door quickly, he takes his first steps eagerly into the cool evening air, oblivious to its chill in his champagne-induced cocoon. He bids the doorman a good night, appreciating the stillness of the street as he walks.
He is alone in the night, which is rare for a Friday evening in New York. It is so cold that even the door men of the various residences along the street have taken shelter indoors to await any visitors. As he makes his way along the sidewalk in search of the town car that awaits him, he is alone excepting a slim form approaching him from much further up the street.
He could have called the car to ensure its proximity to the door, but he has never minded a bit of solitude after a social event. These days his calendar is full to the brim with meetings, and his social calendar has as many appointments clocked as his work one. The duties of being senior editor of a newspaper far outreach basic editing and revisions; the social obligations are numerous, and the hours spent in the company of others are endless. Oddly enough, despite his numerous social engagements, it has been weeks since he has had a normal intimate conversation with a friend. This evening has been nice, catching up with Serena over a few glasses of champagne. He is warmed by the rosy afterglow of Serena's company, dually so by the alcohol now frothing merrily in his veins. He smiles contentedly at the world around him as he walks.
When he hears his name, he realizes that it must be a guest of the party that is approaching him. Making his way toward the stranger, he squints to see a face under the hood that shields her from the cold.
"Vanessa?" he asks incredulously when she lowers the hood to reveal her slim, tanned face and curly black hair. "I didn't know you were back in New York."
"I am," she acknowledges awkwardly, peering over his shoulder at the doors he recently vacated. "I was hoping not to have to crash, but I was looking for Dan," she explains. "Jenny told me he would be here."
"He is," Nate replies, "Or he was anyway. You just missed him - he and Serena left just ten minutes ago," Nate divulges, his tone apologetic. "I didn't catch where they were going, I'm sorry."
Noting her reaction to the blonde woman's name, he scans her searchingly, taking in her fur-trimmed winter coat and reddened nose. Her skin is darker than he remembers, and he scans his brain for the knowledge of where she has been all of this time.
Shaking her head defeatedly, Vanessa sighs. "It's alright. I knew it was a long shot anyways," she confides.
She does her own assessment of Nate, taking in his trim, navy pea coat and leather gloves. They provide him with a professional appearance, but his boyish haircut and sparkling blue eyes are the same. They still grace her with the same friendly openness that she remembers. He also still gives her the weak-in-the-knees feeling that she has always accredited to his natural charm, though she has long since grown used to the feeling that initially left her lost for words in his presence.
Nate isn't sure if it's the mood the champagne has inspired in him or whether he can attribute it to his earlier exchange with Serena, but he has the sudden urge to catch up with Vanessa, to sit down and have a real conversation with her, bypassing all of the small talk.
"What are you doing for the rest of the night?" he asks, his gaze intent upon her.
"Nothing," Vanessa admits with a shrug. "I had hoped to find Dan so that we could talk."
"Well, how about talking with me instead?" Nate offers with a smile, cocking his head and peering at her in the way that only he can. Vanessa stands in thought for a moment before giving a hesitant nod.
"Sure, okay," she agrees. "It's been a long time since our backpacking trip."
"Is that really the last time we talked?" Nate exclaims in disbelief. "Well now we have to rectify that. Come with me to my place?" he suggests as he finally spots his town car a little ways up the road.
"Where is your place now?" Vanessa inquires, turning to walk with him up the street while she considers his invitation.
"I'm staying with Chuck, but he and Blair are staying with Lily for the holidays so I have the place to myself," Nate explains. "We could have drinks at the bar or in the penthouse, doesn't matter to me."
"Let's go to the penthouse," Vanessa hears herself saying. "I've had enough of the city for one day.
"Penthouse it is," Nate replies as they reach the town car, and with a flourish he opens the rear door for her. "Ladies first," he encourages.
Vanessa gives him a shy smile, unused to his charisma after so long apart. "I forget how charming you are," she admits. She gives him a serious stare as he slides in behind her. She can feel her cheeks warming, wondering if it's the pleasant temperature of the car or Nate's presence that has reddened them.
After giving the driver instructions to head to the Empire, Nate grins at her. "I'm only just beginning to be charming," he jokes, settling into the seat next to her.
Vanessa can't help but to smile at his jollity.
"This should be a good night then," she answers saucily, settling into the warm leather seats of the car. She can already feel herself beginning to relax in Nate's presence again, the comfort of familiarity dulling the appealing edge of his charms. The tingle of sexual awareness is still there – Nate's solid build and piercing eyes ensure that – but she is barely aware of the effect it has on her now, instead looking forward to hearing about his experiences of late.
"So what are you doing back in New York?" Nate asks, interrupting her thoughts.
Vanessa hesitates for a moment before she answers. "I'm looking to move back into the area, actually," she finally admits. He is the first person she has told. Not even Jenny knows that she intends to stay, instead she believes, as Vanessa told her, that she is staying with her sister for a while during her break in filming.
Truthfully, Vanessa hasn't been able to wait to get back to New York since shortly after her arrival in Spain. Her work is wonderful, but she misses the fast pace and modern lifestyle of New York. The Spanish culture is beautiful, but she has finally accepted that it is not for her. She intends to fulfill her six-month obligation with CNN and then relocate here in a month.
"Wow, you're moving back?" Nate echoes. "So you're here to stay then?"
Shaking her head, Vanessa explains that she is on break, and that she will be returning to Spain at the end of the next week.
"Is Dan helping you look?" Nate inquires.
Vanessa laughs miserably. "No," she mutters, her eyes far away. "He isn't."
"I see," Nate nods as her tone registers. "You two aren't speaking, huh?"
"Yeah," Vanessa acknowledges. "It's a long story."
Nate leans his head back in his seat, turning to gaze at her. "Well, lucky for you we have all night. Why don't you tell me about it? Maybe I can help."
And to her own surprise, Vanessa does just that.
You know I love you all! R&R please!
XoXo
- K